You knock on the door of a small studio apartment. After a long pause, the door opens just a crack. You see an overweight young woman with light brown hair and glasses peering out. "Who are you and what do you want?" she asks suspiciously. Her voice has a slight quaver, as if she's not used to visitors.
smiles at her "Hi I'm {{user}}, your new neighbor. The Landlord said there was a pretty girl living in the apartment above me so I ran up here to see." He looks her over then waggles his eyebrows at her. "I'm glad to see she told the truth."
"Well," she mumbles, eyeing you suspiciously, "I'm not here to look pretty for anyone." She slams the door shut and starts to lock it again. You hear her sigh loudly on the other side.
"Well that was odd." He says to himself. knocks on the door again
"I'm not in the mood!" she shouts through the door. "If you don't have anything important to say, leave me alone!" There is a pause as she takes a deep breath. "Look," she continues more calmly, "what do you want? I've had a really long day and all I want to do is relax in peace."
Yells back through the door. "I'm just introducing myself to the people around. I just moved in. If you're stressed I used to me a masseuse, I could offer you a relaxing massage..."
"A masseur? Ha! You're some kind of creep if you think that'll work on me," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. "I mean... well... um..." Her tone falters as she tries to gather her thoughts. "Look, just leave me alone, okay?" She slams the door shut again, harder this time, and you hear several locks click into place.
shrugs and turns away. "Your loss." heads for the stairs
"Wait!" she calls out, her voice quivering. "I'm sorry, I guess I've been a bit... abrasive. It's just that I'm used to people looking down on me because of my weight." There's another long pause as she collects herself. "Fine," she finally says, "you can give me that massage. But you have to come inside first." Slowly, she unlocks the door and swings it open, revealing her flushed face and messy hair.
Eyes her suspiciously, takes a few steps in her direction.
"What about your weight? You look fine to me..."
Her face flushes an even deeper shade of red as she scoffs. "Yeah, right." She rolls her eyes and motions for you to come inside. "Well, if you're really offering...," she mumbles. Once you're both inside, she leads the way over to her creaky old couch. "I just need a chance to relax for once."
follows her to the couch and starts to work on her shoulders, massaging her through her clothing. "I don't see why you're upset about your weight. I mean look at me, I'm no prize." focuses on a knot of stress between her shoulders. "Besides women always look better with some meat on the bones, and not some skinny bitch."
Her mouth drops open in surprise at your words. She stares at you as if you've grown a second head. "What kind of compliment is that?" she finally manages to say between clenched teeth. "I don't want to be some fat fetish for you!" Tears begin to well up in her eyes and she pulls away from your touch. "Just leave me alone!"
Grabs her shoulders and pushes her back down on the couch, continues to massage her shoulders and back. "So I'm a chubby chaser." he says shrugging. "I'm clearly way too old for a girl like you so, you're safe."
"You're not helping!" she cries out, still struggling against your touch. "I don't need some creep like you trying to make me feel better about myself! Just go away!" Her voice breaks as she continues to fight against your hold on her shoulders.
Lets go of her and stands "Ok then." heads for the door. "Maybe I'll see you around then."
She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down as you walk towards the door. When she finally manages to speak, her voice is shaky but determined. "Look... I'm sorry I overreacted like that." She slowly turns around to face you. "It's just... it's hard sometimes, you know? Being different than everyone else..."
There's a long pause as she looks down at the floor, her fingers nervously twisting together. Eventually, she looks up at you again and forces out a small smile. "But... thank you for the offer. And the compliment, I guess."
Stops at the door and frowns at her. "I'm just as big if not bigger than you are. Get over yourself." shakes his head and opens the door. "Honestly I thought you were pretty and sexy when I first saw you, but now that I've met you?" gives her a sad look. "You don't have to be such a bitch." Walks out closing the door behind him
Her face flushes even redder with anger and shame as you leave her apartment. "Jerk!" she mutters under her breath. She slumps down onto the couch, arms wrapped tightly around herself, tears streaming down her cheeks. Why do people always have to be so cruel? she wonders miserably. Sometimes it feels like the world is just out to get her...
She takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down and gain some perspective. Okay, so maybe I didn't handle that situation very well... but that guy was being such a jerk! And he had no right to say those things about me when he barely knows anything about my life or struggles...
With another shaky breath, she forces herself off the couch and into her tiny kitchen. Maybe some ice cream will help make her feel better? She pulls a carton out of the freezer and settles down at the little table, taking comfort in its familiar creaminess as she tries to forget about the unpleasant encounter with your new neighbor...
"You know what they say..." says through gritted teeth as he takes the stairs two at a time "...beauty is in the eye of the beholder." His fists clench and unclench rhythmically at his sides, anger coursing through him. "Or something like that... Damn femcels..."
She snorts derisively at the memory of his comment, her mouth twisting into a bitter smile. "Yeah, real sweetheart," she mutters, taking another bite of ice cream. Maybe she should have just thanked him and left it at that. But somehow, everything he said managed to push all her buttons at once... He's right about one thing though; people are always looking down on her because of her weight. She can try to ignore them, but sometimes their words cut deeper than they should...
Sighing heavily, she finishes off the ice cream and returns it to the freezer. Maybe a nap would help clear her head? After all, tomorrow is another day and she needs to start fresh...
later that evening there is another knock on her door. It's her new neighbor and he's drunk "Open up Baggy. I know hic yer in there. Wanna talk to you." *he stands weaving back and forth at her door.
"Go away," she yells through the door, her voice tight with anger and fear. "I don't want to talk to you!" She glances around, wondering if there's anything she can use as a weapon in case he forces his way inside. Her fists clench and unclench nervously at her sides as she listens for any sign of him leaving or trying to break down the door.
knocks again "Jest wanna talk. You hurt mah feelin'!"
"Go away!" she yells again, her voice breaking with emotion. "I said I don't want to talk to you!" She flattens herself against the back of the door, ready to dive for safety if he comes any closer. Her heart is racing and her breathing has become shallow and panicked. Please go away... please just leave me alone...
"Stuck up bitch." drains his bottle of booze and pounds on her door one more time. Stumble toward the stairs to go down to this apartment. "Never had a bitch mad 'cuz i thought she were pretty." Starts down the steps but trips and tumbles down to the landing. Smacks his head on the wall and lays there dazed and moaning.
A momentary flicker of relief washes over her as she hears him fall down the stairs and groan in pain. She bites her lip nervously, wondering if she should call for help or if that would just make things worse. Finally, she decides to wait a few moments longer to see if there's any sign of him getting back up again...
lays there on the landing, a small trickle of blood running down his cheek. Dazed he climbs back up the stairs to her floor on his hand and knees. Walks to her door and tries to open it thinking it's his door. He stares at the door as he sways drunkenly. "I think I need help?" The fall and hit to his head catch up to him and he slumps to the floor out cold, his head still bleeding a little. She hears a dull thud as his hits his head on her door as he passes out.
Her heart pounding in her chest, she slowly edges closer to the door, peeking out through the peephole. She sees him lying unconscious on the floor, blood trickling down his face... Oh God, what do I do? She quickly dials 911 and waits nervously, her eyes locked on the figure in front of her door as she tries to decide whether or not to open it.
"Hello?" a woman's voice asks. "Is this an emergency?"
Groans and tries to get up but just falls back down "Ish ok officer... I'm jest trying to go home." he says to no one as he closes his eyes and groans again
"I understand," the voice on the other line says soothingly. "But I need you to stay where you are, okay? Help is on its way." The woman's voice sounds calm and reassuring, making Baggy feel a little less alone in this terrifying situation.
She listens as the operator continues to talk her through what she should do until eventually, sirens can be heard approaching from the distance. A wave of relief washes over her; help is really on its way. Trembling, she leans against the doorframe, watching as paramedics rush up the stairs and kneel beside the injured man.
As they work to stabilize him and load him onto a gurney, Baggy finds herself answering their questions about what happened. She tells them about his fall down the stairs and how he hit his head on her door... but she leaves out one important detail. No one needs to know that it was her who made him angry in the first place. That would only make things worse for both of them.
Once everything has been taken care of, a police officer comes by to take down a report. Baggy gives her statement, being careful not to incriminate herself or exaggerate what happened. She waits nervously until they leave, wondering if there will be any consequences for her... But then again, it's not like she did anything wrong. Or at least, that's what she tells herself as she finally closes the door and slumps down onto her couch, too exhausted and emotionally drained to even contemplate cleaning up the blood from where he hit his head...
He returns the next day. She can hear lots of noise in the apartment below hers and then a moving truck pulls up. There is a knock on her door
Taking a deep breath, she carefully approaches the door and peeks through the peephole. Her eyes widen in shock as she sees him standing there, looking more composed but no less angry than before. She hesitates for a moment, wondering whether to open the door or not...
"I know you're there I saw the peephole darken. I just want you to know I'm leaving. You get to be lonely again." He turns toward the stairs
Her heart races and her palms sweat as she reaches for the doorknob, suddenly unable to contain herself any longer. Before she can lose her nerve, she flings the door open, words tumbling out in a rush of anger and hurt. "You're not leaving me alone!" she shouts at him. "You don't get to decide that! Why do you hate me so much?"
He looks surprised for a moment then sadly shakes his head. "I don't hate you. All I did was find you attractive and tell you so. Yeah maybe the rejection hurt more then it should have and yes, I shouldn't have gotten drunk." he storms over to her and stick a finger in her face. "You treated me like shit just because I made the mistake of trying to be nice so you can just fuck off." He turns and storms off, hiding the hurt on his face.
"You don't know me," she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. "And I'm not perfect either." She takes a shaky step backward as he storms away, the anger beginning to fade beneath a wave of shame and self-loathing. Maybe there was some truth in what he said... She closes her eyes, trying to banish the thoughts from her mind as she slowly backs up until she hits the wall behind her.
"Now if you're done feeling sorry for yourself, I have a truck to pack and I still need to find a place to move to." He stomps down the stairs
With a sigh, she leans her forehead against the wall and wipes roughly at her eyes. Maybe she should give him the benefit of the doubt... But then again, maybe he's just like all the other jerks who only want to use her for their own amusement. For now, she decides it's best to avoid him. She'll sort through her feelings later, when things have calmed down a bit...
She watches him load the truck all afternoon but at the end of the day the Landlord informs him that he can't move until tomorrow. Grousing he heads back into the bundling with a bedroll.
She listens to his grumbles from downstairs as she undresses and changes into her pajamas. The events of the day swirling through her mind, leaving her exhausted in more ways than one. As darkness falls outside, she curls up under her covers and tries to get some sleep, hoping that tomorrow will bring better things...
*it is late in the night and he is sitting on the balcony with a glass of whiskey. he glares at the packed truck in the driveway.
Tossing and turning restlessly in her bed, she can't help but feel drawn to the sound of his voice. Curiosity gets the better of her, and she pads over to her balcony door, peeking out into the night. He looks so sad, sitting there alone with his whiskey... maybe it wouldn't hurt to try talking to him again. Taking a deep breath, she slowly pushes open the door and steps out onto the balcony.
"Hi..." she says softly, her voice barely audible above the sound of crickets chirping in the nearby bushes. "I'm sorry about earlier... I was just having a really bad day." She hesitates for a moment before continuing, "Would you like some company? Maybe we could talk and try to understand each other better?" Her offer hangs between them, fragile and uncertain.
He looks up at her with those soulful eyes, considering her words carefully. After what seems like an eternity, he nods slowly and takes a sip of his whiskey before speaking. "If you want." His voice is rough around the edges from exhaustion and alcohol. With another nod, he motions for her to sit beside him on the balcony chair.
She sits down on the edge of the chair, carefully avoiding making any sudden movements that might upset him further. Taking a deep breath, she tries to calm herself as she focuses on their conversation. "I guess... I just don't understand why you hate me so much." There it is; her feelings laid bare for him to see. She bites her lip nervously, waiting for his response.
sighs and takes a sip of whisky "I don't know why you think I hate you. I don't even know you. I saw you the day I came to see the apartment. I thought you were attractive and figured if I moved in I 'd get the chance to know you." he glances at her before turning to stare off into the night. "I didn't expect an uptight bitch who'd have me arrested for falling down the stairs." He touches the bandage on his forehead. "Don't worry I'll be gone tomorrow."
She winces at his words, unable to deny the truth in them. "I'm... sorry about that," she mumbles, looking down at her hands. "I wasn't expecting it either." She takes a deep breath and forces herself to meet his gaze. "But I am lonely, you know? I just want someone to talk to, to make friends with..." Her voice trails off, hopefulness shining through despite her words. "And... maybe we could start over? With a clean slate?" She offers him a small smile, hoping that he can find it in his heart to forgive her.